I Wish
by andthenyouwokeup
Summary: Can Lily and the Marauders survive in a world where all their dreams come true?


**Title:** I Wish...  
**Author:** Ash  
**Disclaimer:** Give to Rowling what is Rowling's.  
**Ship:** Lily/James, maybe more  
**Author's Note:** Yeah...I wrote this a while back and now I'm revising it because I want it to be a lot more dark than it turned out to be. So here's the new-and-improved, creepy version of I Wish...

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**I Wish...**

**Halloween Night: Lily Evans**

So, I'm Head Girl.

No surprises there. I knew the moment I stepped off the Hogwarts Express and caught sight of the castle, that I would do something big. Just like everyone else, I sat on that 3 legged stool as the Sorting Hat was lowered over my eyes, and now here I am, sitting proud and pretty at the Gryffindor table, with my shiny Head's Badge.

But why aren't I enjoying the Halloween Feast? Why are the two people sitting on either side of me people I'm sure I've never met before? Why am I alone?

It's my Seventh year here at Hogwarts and girls avoid me like the plague. Think about it. I'm muggle born. I have to work twice as hard to be considered half as good as everyone else! I landed Head Girl by spending all my time in the library, with my nose in a book. Had this been a muggle school election-a popularity contest-the question on everybody's mind would be, 'Lily who?'

It's a shame, I don't live up to 'The Greats' before me.

Alice Randal. Sweetest girl you'd ever want to meet, everyone loved her.

Narcissa Black, Slytherin, not particularly known for being polite, or civil for that matter, but she may as well have been pulled right out of a magazine. She was flawless.

The list goes on.

But me? Plain, ol', reliable, Evans. "Smarty" Evans. "Curve breaker" Evans. Snotty, stuck-up, "You forgot to give us homework," Holier-than-Thou, prude, virgin, cockblock, Evans. That's me--that's how people _see_ me. No one even bothers to find out that, yeah, I would like a couple of friends—_girl_friends—that I could take goofy pictures with, and run away to Hogsmeade with, and complain about Potter to…

"…and so, in more than many words, Goodnight everyone. Happy Festivities."

Finally. I can't stand to be here another minute, I hardly ever even make an appearance at the Great Hall. I hate the awkward feeling of first walking in and having no one to sit with, but keeping on a face of confidence because I'll be damned if I look otherwise.

Students flood the halls, everyone bumping around together laughing merrily because it's Halloween and they're giddy from Butterbeer. the Gryffindor Common Room is filled because Black or Potter or both have pillaged sweets from Honeydukes. Potter—what a joke of a Head Boy; perfect Gryffindor, all impulse and no thought. I haven't a clue how he managed the grades to qualify for the position, probably a Marauders plan, get one of their own into power and nobody can touch them, James must've gotten the short straw and cheated his way through every class.

As I said before, the Common Room was packed so it was next to impossible to reach the Dormitory stairs and climb the eight flights to my private room. More than six years of effort at this school and this is what I'm rewarded with: A big, empty room all to myself. No other 7th year girls to share it with, no one comes up here because a) I have no friends, and b) it just means more stairs.

The only good thing about this room aside from the undisturbed study time is the view. There's a tall, floor-to-ceiling window, and I'm facing the lake, it's especially nice tonight with a full moon bathing the water in an eerie white glow. From where I am the lake looks massive, it could make anyone feel small and inferior… I wonder how many Hogwarts Head Girls have killed themselves…it wouldn't be in Hogwarts, A History I don't think. I'm not suicidal, really I don't think I am I'm just…lonely. I need friends, I need someone more than just my sister. I wish I could feel what it was like to be wanted. I wish I just… I wish… "I wish I was the most popular girl at Hogwarts."

The air hung heavy with my silly confession. A glass broke far off downstairs, the sharp, autumn wind howled. It's much more quiet than usual, even for my room.

"Nostradamus?" My cat. Yes, I live alone and I own a cat, one cat. I'm comfortable with that, it's when I'm pushing 40 little fur balls that you can intervene. From under my canopy bed there's a soft mewing, I cross the room and kneel down to peer into the darkness below. Two light-reflecting cat eyes stare back at me from the far corner. "Pss, pss, pss!" I say like everyone seems to say to cats when beckoning them over. "Pssss!"

Nostradamus stays away and I reach out to her, she's normally so friendly. I graze her silk-like fur, triumphant, but a second later she's scratched me deep and I'm pulling back my hand, moving as far away from her as I can. "What's gotten into…" A single drop of blood leaves the wound and falls to the floor, blending in with the crimson carpet and disappearing from sight.

Cursing all the way, I go to my personal bathroom and clean out the cuts, three angry stripes on the inside of my palm. A little more blood escapes but quickly vanished down the drain. I start to get dizzy from seeing it, I've always had a thing about blood, it makes me queasy. Before I know anything different, my bed's hitting the back of my knees and I'm falling backwards into sleep.

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you like? review please! 

**Ash**


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